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IT IS DAY— tin 
ciibar coiiif :■ 
life. The ti- 
fninaineiit tjive 



fir-^t of thf third month. Con- 
froin a potential state into new 
iths an(i secrets of ocean, earth, 
constant interest; creatures of 



water, wood, air, much pleasure ; sunshine, rain, 
snow, equal value and deli.>iiit--for. what in Na- 
ture is not .ifood? At times lie climbs the mount- 
ains, hunts the forests, fishes the streams— takes 
from the storms llieir energy and reads tidinys 
in the heights. 



'*OLD MAN 
THOMPSON*' 



BY 



CONCUBAR 

Author of "ONY'-Of The 
Mountains, etc. 



COPJTRiaHT, 1911, 

By DANIEL P. CONNOR. 
Manohbster. N. H. 



F 



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IT IS NIGHT. Concubar sits iu his 
Maple street home by the banks of 
the picturesque Merrimack river. 
In spirit he wanders back to the mount- 
ains of this his native place— "The Gran- 
ite State." In imagination he sees sublime 
beauty, again stands in their midst with 
two Indian friends ( — and — ) who name 
them in the different dialects of the ab- 
origine, — " Wambec Mentha," " Agio- 
CHOOK," which means, "mountains with 
BiiOWY i-OREHEADs,"— while facts of per- 
sonal reminiscence and symbols of asso- 
ciate friendship invoke dreams. 

DANIKL P. CONNOR 
Manchester, N. H. 



AUQ ^M4 



"Old Man Thompson" 

IN a small cottage, near a road which 
runs along the northern base of Mt. 
Agassiz, Bethlehem, New Hampshircj 
lived a keen eyed, quiet-mannered, 
very aged man. During the resort's season 
— for it was known as the highest New- 
England village with a world reputation as 
a hay fever paradise — he catered to the lei- 
sure wants of the sight-seekers who traveled 
between twenty-six hotels or boarding hou- 
ses and a steel observatory on the mountain. 
The summer demand for cool drinks, — 
made from roots and herbs gathered by him- 
self — pine maple sugar, fruit, or purchase 
of an artistic alpenstock, were, therefore, 
agreeably easy means of informal introduc- 
tion. Among the accumulate throng of tour- 
ists, however, few were aware that previous 
to comparative inaction, which extended 
some years before his death at ninety-five, 
this remarkable individual followed the avo- 
cation and duties of Nature. Love for and 
study of it blended with inherited service — 
he was a trapper and guide, like his father. 



Folio 4] "Old Man Thompson" 

Devoutly gifted the true catholicity of out- 
door life should have produced wonderful 
resignation, still there alternated for him 
ecstasy and gloom in subtle mystery. Lest 
you mistake the character briefly pictured it 
is well to bear in mind that no nobler spec- 
imen of native breeding ever struggled amid 
the ruggedness of beloved granite hills, 
within whose rare atmosphere and sublime 
grandeur he labored and lived all his days. 
Jvithe, sinewy and of iron constitution; 
tough as a tree of the forest's exposed vic- 
inity, — confirmed by personal claim that he 
"reached the sixtieth year without feeling 
fatigue" — such was manhood's prime. To 
enable a measure of endurance, likewise 
show phases of career and friendship, let mc 
take you to the kindness of his out-shop, 
where, under the hospitable shade of apple 
trees were found red painted board benches 
for the accommodation of weary patrons. 
•[ It was a late sultry June afternoon when 
two favorite boys, with a younger sister, re- 
turning to a distant mountain lodge home, 
after youth's long session at school, stepped 
in to rest and be entertained with the fol- 
lowing tale: 



"Old Man Thompson" [Folio 5 

Ine Lost Flume 

A GOOD many years ago, when Beth- 
lehem was only a cluster of houses, 
and there was plenty game in the woods, i 
was at North Woodstock and left to cross 
the mountains, almost directly over Lafay- 
ette and Garfield. It was a very hot day for 
the middle of December. When I started 
out it looked as if 1 was going to have some 
good weather. The first day 1 got away 
from level country and by noon the next 
was well up the side of the mountain. It 
became cloudy about two o'clock and soon 
began to snow. Shortly after 1 ran right 
into a fresh bear track. From the size of 
the footprints 1 knew it was a very large 
one. 1 started on it, thinking that the an- 
imal could not be far ahead or else the 
imprints would be covered with snow which 
was falling fast. The tracks kept twisting 
down the mountain, and after about two 
miles, turned directly around and followed 
the bank of a small stream which led up to 
what looked from there, a gorge in the 
range. The trail kept along the water, and, 
after a while, I found myself in a deep val- 



Folio 6] "Old Man Thompson" 

ley with steep sides. It was late and getting 
dark fast. The tracks were becoming more 
and more indistinct, so I decided to give up 
and seek a place to camp. I had hardly 
made up my mind when it suddenly drew 
extremely dark and the wind began to blow 
and tear in driving sheets of blinding snow 
and ice. I wandered around for what seemed 
a week, searching for a sheltered place, but 
there was none to be found in the awful 
darkness. 1 kept on going, almost driven 
by the force of the wind, which, with the 
darkness, made it possible to proceed only 
by feeling my way. I was nearly frozen and 
had 1 fallen down would have stayed there 
to die, likely as not, when, unexpectedly, 1 
stumbled into an open space. There was no 
snow on the ground, no wind at all and dry 
leaves rustled under my feet. It was warm 
and fine after being out in the storm. I 
built a fire of leaves and sticks which were 
scattered around. From the light 1 saw 
that it was a kind of cave about ten feet 
wide and eighteen deep. Where I stood 
was a little higher than myself but it slanted 
to about a foot on the opposite side and a 
large boulder almost blocked the front. In 



"Old Man Thompson" [Folio 7 

a little while 1 went to the opening and 
glanced out. The storm was still raging 
but above it could hear, somewhere, the 
roar of water. I retired to my comfortable 
surprise and never so enjoyed rest and sleep 
— choice luck. The morning afterthe storm 
1 stepped out to see the most beautiful sight. 
There I was in a regular flume, walls straight 
on either side, and just above, a picturesque 
water-fall rushing over a precipice in a per- 
fect sheet and splashing on the rocks below. 
The sun shining on the spray, the drifts of 
snow and the swiftness of the stream were 
great. 1 glanced at it for a while, then 
went down, dreaming how I would build a 
road up to it some day and make a fortune. 
^ Primitive instincts and emotions rhymed 
to the mountaineer's soft recital. As he 
mused over the finished prayer of hope and 
fancy ran free in companions there was si- 
lence. Presently came tuning to a gentler 
croon, a loftier object, as the bright Miss 
met a social obligation and adorned the 
highest peak in the vicinity and North Ap- 
palachian Range with a modernized legend. 
In the charm of writen and practiced effort 
she cited how a little girl in the locality was 



Folio 8] "Old Man Thompson" 

transformed from the miseries of trying or- 
phanage to the ideal state of fairyhood, and 
with the veteran at close attention continued. 

The Ne\v Fairy 



AF'TER Love Good had become a 
New Fairy she was given a month' s 



a 
s 

time in w-hich to enjoy herself and get ac- 
customed to the life. So, on a clear, beautiful 
day she climbed on the back of a butterfly 
and asked it to i\y to that mountain of the 
Presidential Range called Washington. On 
the way the butterfly told her that many 
years ago, when this land was inhabited by 
giants and witches, the former used the in- 
terior of the mountain for a treasure chest. 
One after another they deposited all their 
gold and jewels until, at last, the mountain 
was full. There was one giant larger and 
stronger than the rest. Being greedy he, 
of course, co\eted the wealth and plaimed 
how to get it for himself. The rest, al- 
though smaller, were just as avaricious. 
After fighting over it for many days this 
one, whose name was Axael, said: "Let 
us all go the summit and each slide to the 



''Old Man Thompson" [Folio 9 

bottom. The one who does it in the least 
time shall have the treasure. ' They agreed. 
Axael selected a large flat stone for each to 
sit upon and started them, in turn, down 
the treacherous slope. He was cunning and 
picked out a dangerous route so that each 
was killed as he reached the bottom. With 
all the spoil he thought that he would be 
happy but it was a selfish mistake. Fear 
that the witches would steal it begun to 
worry him day and night. T© keep it safe 
he spent many long years covering it up 
with earth and rocks, until this one was 
larger than any of the White Mountains. 
M One day, while on the mountain, he 
slipped and went down the very place his 
comrades had gone before, meeting a just 
and deserving fate. Many years after, when 
the first white man* discovered this mount- 
ain, he found a heap of bones at the foot of 
the path, which he supposed were the re- 
mains of Indians, and the course that of an 
ancient landslide called Tuckerman Ravine. 
In reality it was the path the giants made 
going down the mountain." 

* Darby Field— an Irishman— was the first white man 
to climb Mount Washington. He did it in June, 1642, 
accompanied by two Abenaki Indians. 



Folio 10] "Old Man Thompson" 

*P Do not depart with the young folks be- 
cause to the same spot, if not scene, you will 
be mentally drawn through this evidence of 
superior knowledge and endowment and its 
opportunity for humane estimate. 
•^ "The first time 1 saw the man was a ra- 
ther hot day. Me was tilted on a chair just 
outside the door of the house — in the yard of 
which he sold goods — smoking a black pipe 
and reading. He hardly noticed when 1 
entered and sat down on one of the benches, 
in time he put the newspaper aside and, 
without looking at me drew a handful of 
peanuts from his pocket, shelled some and 
threw them on the ground over toward the 
back of the building. Proceeding in this 
manner until the kernels were all scattered 
about he then made a noise, which sounded 
to me like a squirrel scolding at something 
from a tree. 1 kept watching without say- 
ing anything. Two chipmunks came out 
from under the house to gather the nuts. 
All being disposed of they began turning 
around for more. One surprisee me by go- 
ing up his leg, diving into his pocket and 
carrying away a nut. Afterwards I found 
that it was not unusual to see live or six of 



"Old Man Thompson" [Folio 11 

them playing over him at the same time. 
He had a red squirrel in a cage. I had tried 
to keep several but they died sol asked the 
secret of success. His advice was to catch 
one in a box trap, put it in a cage and not 
let it eat or drink for twenty-four hours. 
Then mix a dose of molasses with half r — 
and when over the effect it will have for- 
gotten its wild life. It was one of the many 
things 1 learned from him about trapping 
hunting, and fishing, and training wild ani- 
mals.' ' 

1 ne Sermom on trie Mt. 

To see him in a different role transport 
yourself to a car on the Mount Wash- 
ington steam incline railroad. In your mind's 
eye notice an accidental group, paired thus: 
a clerical misfit, — who took every chance to 
expound on his transcendant feelings and 
curious introspection, — and a quiet, pensive, 
guide-companion — guest: a handsome, as- 
tute woman and her intelligent eight-year- 
old daughter, — with a party of friends. 
II The guide intuitively sensed Nature's 
providential degrees and ends as he was long 
since tamed to patience by its inevitable dis- 



Folio 12] "Old Man Thompson" 

cipline. During the intimated engagement 
he made many futile attempts to reconcile 
to proper premises reasoning which brought 
to light the subjective dreams of the man 
with whom he shared recreation. A ques- 
tion, reflecting the clergyman' s state of mind 
and the guide's common sense, was taking 
the trip. Clash of words together with 
commingled scene and soul gave a sort of 
refined acquaintanceship. Does not the dis- 
cord of a peasant chorus in a valley come to 
ears on adjacent mountain top in perfect 
harmony; common inspiration and interest 
make people friends? The train merged 
from a transient cloud formation to the 
summit's miraculous splendor. Minds were 
drawn from argument to the precocious M iss 
who, under the spell of phenomena, ex- 
claimed: " Isn't it perfectly wonderful?" 
Mother took her hand and said, "Yes it is 
beautiful and I will tell you a story. There 
was a gentleman traveling in the Rocky 
Mountains. One day he met a holy monk, 
and on expressing his surprise at finding so 
feeble a person in that wild country the 
priest made answer. "Some months ago 
I was at death's door. One night I had a 



"Old Man Thompson" [Folio 13 

dream and I thought our Lord said to me : 
'These many years you have been preach- 
ing of a better land and yet you have never 
taken the trouble to notice the glorious 
country in which you have a place. ' 'Then 
and there,' said the monk, 'I vowed that 
if my health were restored I would learn to 
appreciate this world. On my recovery I 
started on my journey and when I again 
meet my master I shall know how to thank 
Him for blessings.' 

% Fhe lesson, so aptly imparted, had good 
results. It calmed the excited mood of a 
responsive temperament, squared with the 
guide's idea and vindicated his philosophy. 
In gracious facial approval he smilingly 
turned to host and remarked, "You ought 
to profit by that Sermon on the Mount." 

Tke Last ^Volf 

FAMED for droll reminiscence and in- 
genious method there was yet another 
thing which made him a marked man. it 
was that he killed the last wolf in the White 
Mountains. Although no follower of major 
sport will experience the thrill of such a 
chase, or its special distinction, before that 



Folio 14] "Old Man THOiMPsoN" 

dawn when Nature's regulation will have 
welcomed a fated pack into the region of 
exile, still in it you have an important sym- 
bol. The drama of life, power, time, was 
written in the solitary magnificence of the 
mountains. The doom of many and the end 
of much were figured in that play of death. 
The wolf used every material tactics of 
single and collective cunninj: until, of mul- 
tiple ferocity, she was left to face a fine- 
bred sportsman, — the enemy? Type within 
a type she becomes when you consider an 
expression of christian dispensation and its 
higher evolution. Classified, through cir- 
cumstance, with the Timber wolf of inde- 
pendent resourcefulness, she roamed alone 
— supreme. In isolated abundance there 
was no need of note of sharp warning, food 
summons or hunger cry. Nevertheless you 
wonder why she was deaf to the call of the 
north and west where kin lived in the safety 
of the wilderness. What hope of retribu- 
tion or fond memory caused her to frequent 
a vast estate — fatherland. At any rate an- 
cestral traits and unlimited range were pit- 
ted against an authority on animal psychol- 
ogy, sharpshooter and geographer of track 



"Old Man Thompson" [Folio 15 

and trail. A tedious hunt of calculated de- 
tail or an end of quick dispatch matters little 
over foes forever vanquished by the same 
peaceful rest. With weird zest for odd fun 
came a meaning. iVlore so when you know 
that from now on there was problem above 
pastime. As in the past, shadows traced 
their fantasies on mellow moonbeams; 
winds sung myriad leafed melody through 
the trees; seven voiced thunder lost naught 
in the storm's symphony; brooks rippled as 
varied a harmony as music of birds; earth 

and firmament gave beauty and value; 

creatures of wood, water, air, afforded en- 
terprising inducement and pleasure but they 
offered a different appeal. Even an acci- 
dent in twilight's last eve continued the 
essential change, and, 
1 Hush! 

^ Final orders were to be obeyed. Al- 
mighty Nature, with its source and seal of 
everything, neared the feeble hunter. With 
calm heroism he drew gracefully away from 
inner life's inconstant test to investigate the 
revelation beyond, when suddenly, the 
mountains became more beautiful to 
"OLD MAN THOMPSON" 



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PRESERVATION TECHNOLOGIES, LP. 
Ill Thomson Park Drive 
Cranberry Township, PA 16066 











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